On Their Toes
by Live.It.Up13
Summary: Clint finds his own way to keep new recruits ready for anything. And it may or may not have something to do with him climbing through air vents.


**So this is my first fanfiction I've ever submitted so I would love constructive criticism but please be nice. I do not own the Avengers or any Marvel characters, however much I would like to.**

He was ready. The contractors had just finished their remodeling, with his special modifications incorporated of course. It had been difficult to get his plan in motion without anyone noticing but oh was it worth it. He had managed to bribe Stark into hacking the worker's instructions in the S.H.I.E.L.D network with the promise of extra Shawarma runs in the future. All of the airducts were now completely soundproof.

"Hey Barton!" Well speak of the devil…

"Whats up Stark?" He plastered on a smile, trying to subtly hide the gun in his hands from the nosy billionaire.

"Just wanted to let you know that the team is going to be gathering at my place tonight for the game."

Clint almost rolled his eyes. Tony's new flatscreens had entranced the newly thawed Captain America and Thor, who were both fascinated with the "people in the box". They had all started getting into watching big sports games together, mostly football and hockey, so everyone could get assimilated. It also was a great way to bond as a team and ease tensions after a rough day. And it was just fun to watch the players fighting, as they so often ended up doing.

"Sure. I'll be there." Clint responded, trying to get Tony to leave. Luckily it worked

"And bring the Shawarma you owe me!" Tony yelled out as he was walking away. Clint almost winced. And here he was trying to be discreet.

That small obstacle aside, Clint jogged into a room he had cleared the day before. His plan was in motion. He had to choke back the urge to give off an evil laugh. Okay. Focus.

He moved the desk into a position under his chosen point in the wall and lifted away the grate there. It opened right into the air ducts.

"Again Clint?" A voice sounded from behind him making him nearly jump out of his skin and he had to suppress the urge to turn around and shoot.

"Hey Natasha" He said wearily, not even needing to turn around to identify the voice. She was the only person in the station who could actually sneak up on him.

"The vents again?" She smirked. "I'll leave you to it." He smiled back. He knew she loved screwing with new recruits as much as he did. He wouldn't be reported by the Black Widow.

Clint jumped back onto the desk and slid into the air vent, replacing the grate after he was through. Pushing his gun in front of him, he moved towards the section of the base that housed new agents.

Clint settled himself in to wait, the nozzle of his rifle poking through the grate ready to take out anyone who passed. In his position, he had a clear view, and therefore shot, of the entire common area where the new agents spent their free time if they weren't in their rooms.

An innocent target passed by below, running a hand through his hair, fixing his collar, and rushing. He was probably about to go on a date. About 500 meters away from Clint's nest, the man wouldn't even know what hit him.

Clint eased his mind into the headspace required when you were a sniper. The only thing that existed was his breathing, heartbeat, and hurried movement of his prey below. He would have liked to bring his bow but that was nearly impossible to draw in the cramped space so a gun would have to do. He rested his finger on the trigger, breathed once, twice, and fired.

"Shit!" The man swore. Bright pink paint covered what had, only seconds ago, been a very nice looking suit. The impact point, had it been a real bullet, would have pierced his heart. Clint allowed himself a mental pat on the back for a perfect "kill". He was glad to help prepare the green agents for the field, where if they were being shot at it would be with real bullets instead of paintballs.

And…. What could he say? It was possibly the most entertaining thing to do on base other than trying to confuse Thor. He snuck around hallways and open spaces through the air vents, shooting at new agents.

Now with his new modification, there wouldn't even be as much of a chance that he would get caught. One day, Coulson had heard him crawling around and dragged the reason out of him. That had not been a happy day. Coulson was in charge of the probationary agents and disliked people messing with them. He had made that very clear. But then, as he was leaving, all Coulson had said was, "No headshots anymore please. I can't have too many concussed agents running around."

Clint liked to think that he made them battle ready. And it was fun to take them down a notch or two. New recruits were always so cocky. It was obnoxious.

Another one walked into the room and Clint quietly took aim at his next target. They never found him and it frustrated them to no end. But what could he say? He was the best. And if they couldn't handle getting shot at or getting a little dirty, they didn't belong here anyway.


End file.
